By the time you read this, we will
be going to the dogs! More precisely, the dogs will be coming to us,
about a thousand of them, as March 6th, 92 sled dog teams are
set to leave Anchorage for the annual 1,200-mile Iditarod trek to Nome.

It’s a period of long work hours for
everyone on the staff, and a time when our listenership is especially
high. Thank you for making our work possible. We pray in thanksgiving
for your generosity.

DANCING:
Young folks had a lot of fun in the Yup’ik Eskimo village of Stebbins, as they present a
traditional dance. In the heart of KNOM listening country, the
community of 570 is an hour’s plane ride southeast of Nome.

The performance was part of the
annual Stebbins Dance Festival, held to teach customs and traditional
values and music to youngsters from throughout the region. KNOM
volunteer Anna Dummer spent the better part of a week in the village,
and you’ll find her story on pages two and three.Among KNOM’s
objectives, we encourage youth to learn the rich traditions of their
past. Most hours, we play one traditional drum dance song, and trips
like Anna’s are refreshing our Eskimo music library with new material.

ALMOST TWENTY: By the end of
March, Nome’s normal high temperature is up to +19°!

Please remember missions like
KNOM in your will. We prayerfully place all bequests into funds that
provide for future major improvements, and protect the mission from
unforeseen emergencies.

INSPIRATIONAL
SPOT: When you start to
light a fire, you’re bothered by the smoke in your eyes. They water.
But in the end, the result can be a nice, warming fire.

God is a
consuming fire. We must first light this Divine fire within us, through
tears and with struggles.

I’m sitting
here with my second mug of hot chocolate, trying to decide how to
describe the Stebbins Dance Festival I covered last week. It’s hard to
put into words what it’s like to experience the gathering of school
groups from eleven different villages for the purpose of dancing and
teaching traditions and values.

I flew to
Stebbins Wednesday night to be greeted at the airstrip by the airline
agent for a truly arctic ride to the elementary school on the back of
his four-wheeler. School was out for the day and administrators and
teachers were trying to empty the school of Stebbins kids so that
visiting students could settle into the designated classrooms where they
would be spending festival nights.

I carried what
turned out to be the easiest way to meet kids ever: the station’s
mini disc recorder. This box, the size of a large book, would prove to
overcome any hesitancy on a child’s part to come up to a stranger and
stare.

I sat by myself
at the end of a table trying to remember how to use the contraption in
order to record hours of traditional Eskimo music. Within five minutes
I had a group of kids asking what “that thing” was. I don’t know if it
holds true for 6-year-olds everywhere, but these kids sure were
entertained by saying their names and listening to the disc play back
again, and again, and again. By the time the welcoming ceremony was to
start I was well versed in how to record, rewind, and play back.

As the event
began, visiting kids paraded into the gym and sat on both sides, leaving
enough room for the dancing. Stebbins drummers played for three hours
and there was spirited dancing.

Each dance
tells a story. Having been raised in a very different culture, I was
fascinated. The rhythm of the drumming and the intricate movements of
the dancing were truly incredible. When the dancing ended, the gym was
transformed into a sleeping space for the boys and the school emptied of
community members. Did this mean that the students were getting ready
for bed? Of course not! Bring together about 100 kids from villages
all over the bush, get them dancing, give them a snack, and expect them
to sleep?

Part of my
responsibility on this trip was to call in news stories each day, so I
was down in the commons trying to put something comprehensive together.
This turned out to be the best procrastination technique that I’d ever
found. I only wish I had had the mini disc back in college! Far easier
to justify than watching a movie, I recorded about two hours of talking
with the kids and how excited they were for the next day’s workshops,
how happy they were not to be in school, and, sometimes, how nervous
they were dancing. After a final light’s out from the chaperones the
kids started drifting back to their assigned rooms, or the gym, and I
finished up and went to bed.

The next day
brought a whirlwind of walking around to different workshops, among
them, beluga whale net building, soap carving, mat weaving, mask making
and beading.

Another session
taught how to make an Eskimo dessert called agutuk. Pronounced “ah-GOO-duck,”
it’s a mixture that usually contains shortening, sugar, tundra berries,
and perhaps seal oil and shredded fish. Despite how it sounds, I found
it delicious.

Participation
in the soap carving workshop proved to be great for two reasons: it
provided some good pictures and material for my next story, as well as a
bar of soap in the shaky design of a flower for me since I had forgotten
mine back in Nome.

The Native
Youth Olympics workshop was my favorite. Seeing someone leap up off one
leg, kick a high leather bag, and then land on that same leg is
incredible. Other NYO events include balancing on one arm and then
reaching up with the other to hit a leather bag, hopping down the floor
in a push-up position as far as possible with the head always being
highest point , and placing a leather ring around two sets of feet
facing each other, rising up into a crabwalk position and trying to pull
the other person off balance.

After the
workshops, students had some downtime to go to the village store, rest,
walk to see the local reindeer herd that was on top of a nearby hill, or
visit with new friends. Come 7:00 everyone was back and ready for the
dancing to begin.

Each school got
time to perform as many and whatever dances they wanted. Some schools
did local dances, some did dances learned from other regions, and some
schools performed new compositions. Between the school performances and
common dances that wrapped up the night I had about four and a half
hours of great material.

On the last day
of the festival, nobody wanted it to end and the dancing ran far into
the night, so long that I ran out of both sets of batteries I had
brought and almost ran out of space on the disc!

The
next day saw tired and sad faces packing and getting bundled up to head
to the airstrip for the trip home. As I took my turn on one of the
villager’s four-wheelers I reflected on the incredible experience I had
just enjoyed.

And on the work
that lay ahead of me, editing dozens of hours of Eskimo music to be
played over KNOM for many years to come.

MASKED WOMAN (left): Cecelia Mike from the nearby village of Kotlik teaches children to make masks using modern and traditional materials
at the Stebbins Dance Festival.

THIRTY YEARS
AGO: In March 1974, KNOM sent a reporter along the Iditarod trail
for the first time. Volunteer news director Steve Havilland followed
the second running of the 1,200-mile race by small plane across some of
the most remote and uninhabited parts of Alaska.

There was no
secretary to assist with correspondence, and former KNOMer Carol Razewski returned for the month to help out in the office.

COUNTING UP:
Since January 1st, KNOM has broadcast about 8,500
inspirational spots, and an equal number of educational ones, most
produced here at the station. Thank you for making our work possible!

Thank you once
more for your care and concern for us and for our work.

We keep you in
our prayers, and we are sincerely grateful for yours, and for your
financial helping hand, which allows us to pay our bills each month.